Hope
by whenthewallscomecrashingdown
Summary: I've never really been scared of the dark. What could possibly be lurking in the dark that could harm me? Because where there's darkness there's fear, but there's also hope.


**Hope-**

I woke up because I knew something wasn't quite right. It was one of those feelings of dread that you have, where you just know deep down into your bones that something is wrong.

My eyes flutter and I blink a few times, trying to make my eyes adjust more quickly to the darkness surrounding me.

I've never really been scared of the dark. Even as a kid growing up, the darkness seemed like a trivial thing to be scared of. Mum says it's because I was wise beyond my years as a child, but I think it just had something to do with my naivety. What could possibly be lurking the darkness that could harm me?

My hand reaches beside me instinctively searching for the warm body that had lied beside me just hours, no minutes, ago, but instead I only felt the slightly warm imprint of his body in the sheets. He had taken care to fold the duvet over, just the way I liked it. My heart twisted painfully as I groped around, finally realising that he was definitely gone.

This charade was getting old. The flirty glances, the witty banter, and the way I just have to look into his eyes and my face flushes and my body gets all tingly. How he came up to me today, while I was talking to my Aunt Ginny and his arm just brushed against mine and I suddenly went into tunnel vision: seeing only him, wanting only him, not caring that all my blood relatives were around, just having this insane urge to just snog the hell out of this man. Merlin, he made me so crazy.

I hear a strange sound come from somewhere in my flat and I stiffen immediately. My mind is suddenly alert, my breath catches and my heart beats erratically as I throw the duvet off my body, grabbing my wand from the bedside table and walk slowly to my bedroom door, taking care not to step on the squeaky floorboards. If there is an intruder in my flat, so Merlin help me, I will hurt them for waking me up. The strange presence must have been what awakened me; even in my sleep I couldn't turn off all of the skills that I had learned in those self defense classes my dad made me take.

The cold wind hits my unclothed body as I realise that I'm naked and the large bay window in my bedroom is open. My mind flashes back to just hours before—flushed skin, groping hands, burning desire, and then he wanted to open the window. I had complied, giving him a strange look and he said it made him feel more at home. It was the first time he had said something like that.

I pick up my discarded robe off the floor, and my eyes flicker to the window but I decide against closing it—if it squeaks the intruder might realise that I'm awake.

I hold my breath as I grab the handle of the door slowly, almost hissing as the cold metal touches my skin, and I turn it gently. I open just the door just a crack and see that the "intruder" in my flat isn't really an intruder at all.

He's putting on his dragon skin boots carefully, lacing them up with caution and occasionally glancing around to make sure that he's being quiet enough. His tongue is poking out of the corner of his mouth as he fumbles with the laces and my heart stops cold. I've never caught him in the act of leaving. It's an amazing feat on his part, really. Every time I've woken up after one of our trysts, he's been gone, leaving only his manly scent on my sheets.

My heart stops cold as I watch him get ready to leave me and I briefly consider going out there and giving it to him, just screaming like madwoman and making him get back in bed with me. But I can't, I feel like my whole body is frozen as I watch him slowly stand up. His blond head turns in my direction and for a moment I think he's seen me.

But it appears that he doesn't as he just stands there and stares at the door for a few minutes, before running a hand through his hair, shaking his head, and leaving. I hear his steady, measured footsteps walk out the door and I'm tempted to go after him. To make him explain to me just what the hell it is we're doing, so that I'll know if he has any feelings for me at all other than a shag buddy. I want to make him to lay it all out for me: why we're doing what we're doing, to have him tell me what he wants out of this…thing that we have.

But really I just want to know if he likes me back. Being around him makes me feel young again, I'm reminded of my school years and puppy love and just wanting to feel wanted by somebody. Merlin knows he drives me crazy. He's annoying and he fights with me, and he's always around because he's friends with all of my family, and he can only sleep in practically freezing temperatures. He drives me to the brink of insanity, only to reel me back in again, crushing myself to him.

I've never asked him how he feels about m, and a part of me doesn't want to.

So I pull myself back from the door, shutting it tightly behind me, and walk over to the window. I slam it shut and then curl up back in my frigid bed. I fluff the pillow and attempt to go back to sleep, but I can't.

My mind is still reeling, but I know deep down I've already made my decision. I won't ask him, I'll wait until he tells me, if he ever does. Maybe it goes back to my being unafraid of the dark: because where there's darkens there is fear, but there's also hope. So maybe for now I'll just stay in the dark in regards to his feelings about me, and I'll just hope that he feels the same way I do. At the moment, that's just all that I can do.

Feeling satisfied with myself for coming to this conclusion, I close my eyes to try to go back to sleep. I still feel restless until I decide that my room is now much to warm, so I crack my bay window again. I sigh wistfully as the cold air floats in, clearing the stuffy air from the room and allowing me to breathe more easily. I snuggle down into my bed, ready for sleep to take me.

Something still doesn't feel quite right, that feeling in my bones is still there because he isn't next to me anymore. All I can do is hope that the next time he comes, he understands what I mean when I keep that bay window open. All I can do is hope that he stays. All I can do is hope, because hope seems so much better than knowing he doesn't care. Hope allows me to sleep while this feeling of utter wrongness plagues my dreams.

Hope is everything.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I've been having trouble writing. Blegh. But for some reason I like this piece. I know I've written better, but this piece is different than the other things I've written recently (which have been a load of crap, let me have you know) so yeah.**

**I'll update my multichaps soon, maybe.**

**Let me know what you think,**

**~wwccd**


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